


Finding Our Way

by OnlyHereForGallavich (orphan_account)



Series: Gallavich Week 2K17A [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Arguments, Domestic, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, GW2017A, Gallavich, Gallavich Week, House Hunting, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Jealous!Ian, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/OnlyHereForGallavich
Summary: It had now been over a month of Ian having early morning shifts, and it was really fucking with him. He was tired of never seeing his boyfriend, and always having to run off when Sue beckoned. He could tell Mickey was pretty tired of it too.





	Finding Our Way

**Author's Note:**

> What's more domestic than petty fights and house hunting? Welcome to day 4!!!
> 
> And can I just say on advance, I'm really excited about sharing tomorrow's fic with you guys :)
> 
> enjoy x

_Content_. That was the word that came to mind when Ian woke up that morning. Mickey was lying on his side, back pressed against Ian’s front. His bare skin stuck slightly to his lover’s because of the heat, but he didn't really mind. He reached down slightly to brush circles on Mickey’s stomach, not enough to wake the other boy up, but just enough to give him some extended contact and comfort. He knew, in sunlight, Mickey’s skin would glisten to an almost translucent pale color, and it was only in that light that Ian would be able to see the light dusting of freckles he had. But alas, no sunlight was to be found at the unholy hour he had woken up at. Morning light was barely touching the sky, and their room was still shrouded in darkness.

It had now been over a month of Ian having early morning shifts, and it was really fucking with him. He was tired of never seeing his boyfriend, and always having to run off when Sue beckoned. He could tell Mickey was pretty tired of it too. He could tell that Mickey was really hurt by it when he stopped fighting or teasing Ian about it. Now, when Ian had to take a raincheck on dinner, or skip a movie, Mickey just sighed and shrugged it off with phrases like _of course you have to work_.

There was constant animosity between them now, and Ian hated it. That’s why he loved sleep; he and Mickey could just be together, and be themselves. The conflict couldn’t have come at a worse time. A month earlier, after a shootout took place near their run down building, Ian and Mickey had decided to scrape together their finances and look for a new place. Mickey threw himself into it enthusiastically, and while Ian wanted to join, he just got too busy to really contribute.

Every few days, Mickey would suggest they go to _this_ listing and _that_ open house, while Ian felt like the worst person in the world as he crushed his boyfriend’s hopeful face yet again. Once, they had even been just leaving when Ian had gotten a call from Sue and had to rush out. Mickey just shook his head and told Ian to fuck off, but tiredly. The fight had left Mickey, and Ian couldn’t imagine anything worse.

But what could he do? He needed this job; it was half their income. Mickey’s job managing construction paid well, but it wasn't enough to keep their household afloat alone. Sighing, kissing Mickey on the back of his neck, Ian climbed out of bed. Mickey stirred and, though Ian prayed for the opposite, woke up. “Leaving?” he asked sleepily, hair rumpled and pale face flushed with sleep. Ian loved him so much in that moment, he almost felt like he was choking. “Yeah, sorry,” Ian apologised quietly, “Go back to sleep, baby.” Mickey didn't even fight him on it, or pull him back into bed for an early morning fuck like he once used to. He just turned away and curled into himself without another word. It hurt Ian more than he cared to admit.

  
///

  
When he returned in the evening, Mickey was already home. He was laying on the couch with his eyes closed, but they were clenched in a way that suggested pain, not sleep. “Mick?” Ian asked, dropping his keys on the table, “Are you okay?”Mickey opened his eyes blearily, shaking his head. “My back fucking hurts,” he groaned, and Ian watched him sit up gingerly. He drew closer, drawing Mickey to rest against him. He began massaging Mickey’s back, slowly but steadily, making Mickey moan in pleasure. It was nice, and more relaxed and together than they had felt in a really long time.

And then, Ian’s phone rang. Mickey jerked away like he had been scalded. Ian read the name across the display and sighed. “Mick,” he began, trying to calm the storm before he began. Mickey sat up straight, clearly hurting both physically and emotionally, and it made Ian’s chest ache. “Just fuck off, Gallagher,” Mickey scoffed, “Clearly all _those_ fuckers being hurt are more important than _me_ being hurt.”

Ian flinched, “That’s not fair.”

“ _This_ isn’t fair. You leaving me every five seconds is not fucking fair, Ian.”

“It’s just temporary,” Ian tried again at placating him. “Yeah?” Mickey demanded, “Well maybe we’re fucking temporary.”

Now it was Ian’s turn physically flinch away from Mickey. “You don’t mean that.” “Just leave Ian,” Mickey said tiredly.

“ _Mick_.”

“ _Go_.”

  
///

  
When Ian returned that night, he had put his foot down about his shifts, and told Sue he wasn't ready to take such an extreme workload anymore. She had largely been understanding, and allowed him shifts that fell between the ordinary 9 to 5. Ian couldn’t wait to share the news with Mickey, but the moment he had come into the house, Mickey had disappeared into their room. He slammed the door behind him, making it clear Ian was not welcome. Ian sighed and settled in for a sleepless night on the couch. He wasn't used to sleeping without Mickey anymore, and he missed him in his arms all night.

  
///

  
The next morning, Mickey slept in, so he didn't even notice Ian had left later than usual. Desperate to make everything up to Mickey, he even left work early that day. He walked into their house, grinning, hoping Mickey would be home. He wasn't, but Ian had expected that and wasn't too let down. What he hadn’t expected was the note on his bedside table.

_You’ll probably never see this, thought ill tell you anyway. Since youre busy, gone 2 see houses with Mark._

_M_

Ian’s blood boiled. Mark. He fucking hated that douchebag. That douchebag who was such a nice guy that it made him feel annoyed and insufficient and all kinds of insecure. And this little announcement couldn’t have come at a worse time, when their relationship was already on shaky ground. Mark never made a move, or said a word of his attraction to Mickey out loud. Thus, Ian had nothing substantial to present to his boyfriend, so had never said anything. He didn't want to seem like a paranoid boyfriend, but he couldn’t help it. He knew in his logical mind that Mickey would never want to be with anyone else, but it still itched at him every time Mark ‘covertly’ looked at Mickey’s ass, or made him laugh. He wanted Mickey to have friends, he really did, but not Mark.

And going to look at houses with that dick? The home was theirs, and Mickey was his, and Mark had no right being in that room. There was no fucking way Ian was going to go with Mark’s opinions, or step foot in a house Mickey and Mark decided on.

Ian pulled at his memory, trying to remember what open house Mickey had told him about earlier that week. After a few seconds, he remembered Mickey talking about a little redbrick loft about twenty minutes away, and he raced to his car. Ian drove like a mad man, speeding as best he could. Every moment was one lost, was one where Mickey might have made his decision, but with the wrong man by his side. When he finally reached the place, he marched up to the entrance, ripped the door open and immediately searched for his lover.

Mickey was standing a little while away, and Mark was inching his left hand closer to his lower back. _Fuck no_. Ian walked right up to them, nudging Mark away rather roughly. “Ian?” Mickey asked, and the surprise that Ian was actually here, broke Ian’s heart. He promised himself that he would never be so negligent again. One look at Mark’s smug face made the anger resurface. “Why are you here?” he asked crudely, “This is me and Mickey’s decision. There is no reason for you to be here.”

Mickey let out a shocked noise. “Ian, what the fuck?! I asked him here.” Ian swirled around to face his boyfriend. “And why did you do that?! This is our home, and you thought you should pick it with him?”

Mickey scoffed, barely noticing when Mark raised his hands in surrender and left with a quiet this looks like a private conversation. “Don’t go there! I waited for you, for so fucking long! You never showed up. I wanted a second opinion. This is your fault.” Ian flinched at that, righteous anger dissipating in the face of Mickey’s logic. “I’m sorry, baby. I told Sue I'm doing those crazy shifts again, okay? I’m going to be here, I promise.”

Mickey’s eyes were shining lightly, and his face was bright red. He relaxed slightly, and burrowed his face into Ian’s chest. “I miss you,” he said, voice all crowded with emotion and barely understandable. It made Ian ache. “I’m sorry. I miss you, too.”

After another moment or two, the boys relaxed and walked in to explore what would become their home, hand in hand.

  
///

  
Cue a month later, the boys had moved in and were sleeping on their bed. This time, they had slept well into the day, and the afternoon sun was highlighting Mickey’s underlying freckles. Now _this_ was the life they had always wanted.


End file.
